Liebe und Krieg
by zeze-chan
Summary: “KYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” She shrieked as she ducked down lower next to the boy, her voice as sharp as the glass shards that rained down from the shattered window and had caused minor cuts to both her and him.


"A-ah… gomen nasai!" A flood of rich crimson coloration flooded her pale cheeks, and those rich chocolate colored eyes widened. Her pursed soft pink lips opened, and gaped. She blinked in a temporary stupor, and bent down to help him up. She had accidentally bumped into him, caught him off balance, and had knocked him down.

He looked up at the short haired host, a little surprised that such a skinny and small thing could topple him over and still stand, as he was at least four inches taller and though not that muscular or fat he did possess a far larger mass. This host was like a stick figure in clothes, with a little bit of baby fat. The bone structure on this brunette was more feminine than masculine, with a finely curved face and girlish shoulders.

Haruhi went down to help him up when an ear splitting noise exploded into both of their senses. There was a sudden, sharp crack. Shattering. The screaming noise of fine glass of a window raining down on them, the sort of muffled thump as the bullet hit the wall, and Haruhi was huddled next to him in a matter of seconds.

"KYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" She shrieked as she ducked down lower next to the boy, her voice as sharp as the glass shards that rained down from the shattered window and had caused minor cuts to both her and him. The hallways were silent, then erupted into screams of horror and fear and classroom door slamming shut.

The two looked up at the wall and gulped, realizing there was a bullet hole in the wall, visible from where they crouched.

"A-ah… let's crawl out of here. I'll get the nurse, you go get the principal." He mumbled softly, though he was breathing heavily. He and Haruhi slowly regained composure. "The principal is closer, and safer to get to, Haruhi." Haruhi glanced at him, and gave him a shaky smile, a light blush spreading across her paling face.

"Arigato, Nekozawa-san. You're very kind." His heart fluttered, which he found very unusual, as she turned and began crawling away, with the wall below the glass windows shielding her from sight from whoever had fired the bullet. But those walls did not stop him from staring at her cute butt, noting how round and cute it was, sticking up in the air as she crawled on her knees. He shook himself out of it though, explaining to himself forcefully that the only reason he was looking there was because it was one of those things you do not pay attention to unless its almost in your face, and headed in the other direction. '_Pfft, Haruhi is a male, though for a moment he seemed far more feminine._ _What kind of guy screams kya?_'

Haruhi crawled quickly, and stayed alert. All students were locked in the classrooms, she saw from the lights off in each room. If there was any danger, students would huddle in a corner of the room with the lights off as long as it took. She doubted anyone would let her in, even if they recognized her.

But she was okay with that. She was going straight to the principal, not to class.

"Attention all staff and students," Haruhi heard the booming intercom announce. She froze in place, her left hand hovering over the floor. There seemed to be talking in the background. "Ah, there's a situation, but nothing to be worried abo-"

"Let me see that, old man!" A man harshly shouted in the background and there was a sound of a light tussle, and then there was a loud, clear slapping noise followed by a dry thump. "Ahem. You fucking rich brats are all our hostages. Don't think about contacting the motherfukin' police, if they show their asses here before they should and we will know 'cause we'll tell them when, we kill the pussy of a principal you guys have. And then the blonde faggot superintendent with his fruity French accent. And then everyone else. Let the police find out their own way. Escape if you're stupid. I have snipers set up to shoot at sight, my assistants are roaming the halls, and have barricaded the exits. Men will be coming to each room. Let them in, or we shoot down the door and then anyone in there. If any resistance is even hinted, there will be blood and lots of it. Don't think I fucking won't!"

Haruhi stiffened, her mind panicking. She heard the footsteps. They were coming closer. She looked up and saw the girl's bathroom. Taking her chance, she dashed for it.

"Hey! You!" Haruhi heard rough shouting, but didn't hesitate. She locked the bathroom's sturdy door and then frantically looked at the stall for an escape. Taking the chance, she ran into a stall and climbed up the toilet. Pushing up the ceiling she found it gave easily, and she had an escape route. In time, too, as she heard to pounding at the door. Then the sound of a gun being cocked.

She got up there with time to spare, but traversed carefully. The ceiling was fragile. Haruhi knew where to go, based on common sense, even if it was dark, and moved quickly through the ceiling. Then she stopped, certain she was where she needed to be. She removed one ceiling tile in front of her and peered below. The halls were empty. But she double checked, head prodding out. Nervously, she started to lower herself down, then dropped eight feet, rolling to reduce the strain on her legs.

She didn't get up for a few moments, and even then only crawled. Haruhi's breath became raspier. She seemed to be scared. Was she thinking there a sniper here, too, waiting for her to peek her head up?

"Come on, brat, stop struggling. If you weren't so weak, I might have hurt you by now." A husky voice spoke out, and Haruhi turned her head. From the other direction, she saw Nekozawa, decked out in his cape and cat puppet, struggling in futility against a bulky man with a gun in a holster at his side. She felt lucky they hadn't noticed her, and instinctively darted behind a marble pillar behind her. In the back of her mind, she praised the frivolous decorations of the rich.

"Where are you taking me!?!?!" Nekozawa shouted, his voice cracking. Haruhi felt sympathy towards him. He was genuinely scared, but she could not do anything right now.

"To my boss. He's in the office, where is it?" Haruhi held her breath as they passed. Nekozawa stopped struggling, giving up his fighting spirit.

"I-I'll show y-y-you…"

Haruhi silently followed them, her expression blank- but those beautiful brown eyes of hers narrowed and flaring with anticipation.

-----

Kyouya growled in frustration, feeling ridiculous as he hid behind a bookcase. He had been studying like the diligent, intelligent and aloof character he truly was when he had heard the announcement, and then the people approaching. As always, he responded to the stimuli in his environment with indifference but also professionalism, coolly ducking behind a bookshelf without a change of expression. Two men opened the large doors and briefly glanced through the library, but soon were on their way without a thorough search. Kyouya praised them for having a lack of education.

He waited until their footsteps were inaudible. In a second his phone was whipped out of his left pocket, and his fingers dancing rapidly across the numbers. He was on the phone with his specially trained police force within seconds.

The line rang twice, then picked up.

"There's a situation. " Kyouya whispered coolly into the phone, trying to sound extremely composed. He was calm, but slightly peeved, though he easily disguised it. He would make the perpetrators pay for the inconvenience.

"Sir, no can do. Too dangerous for us, these guys are ruthless and they do have guarded snipers hidden around the perimeter. But no worry, we have someone on the job. Yours and everyone else's safety is guaranteed."

Kyouya sighed, and flicked the phone close without replying, a feeling of fear gripping him. He gritted his teeth, and his heart pounded mercilessly against his ribcage. His glasses glinted in the light as he sat there, waiting…

secretly hoping.

He curled up behind the bookshelf with his laptop buried in his clothed belly, and let the wave after wave of emotion pass, as he was in solitude. Just this once Kyouya would indulge in excess emotions- he could try all he wanted to stay cool, calculating, and on top of things, but in the end he was nothing more than a teenaged boy who struggled to swallow the piece far too big for him to eat. Kyouya would bottle his emotions up, but that was unhealthy, and so he just needed this time- to let them free, to empty the bottle so he could use it once again.

No one could see him, anyways.

So he did. He indulged.

Kyouya would later deny being frightened. No one would question him.

No one would believe anything else anyway.

-----

"Hey Saitou-sama, lookie here. I found motha fukin' dressed like that American horror movie character Scream in the hallway with kitty cat puppet on his hand. Heh, what the hell, I know it sounds crazy." The man gruffly announced as he entered the room, pushing the reluctant and frightened Nekozawa in with him. A redheaded man; with dark, cruel eyes and sideburns that hid a scar that extended from where his ear met his jaw to just below his bottom lip, he looked Nekozawa over curiously. He was a rough man, his muscle shirt showing off his tanned skin that had tattoos adorning his sleeveless biceps, and stood with his back directly facing a large window that looked over the whole school campus. Nekozawa refused to make eye contact. He wanted to just run back to his closet amongst the dark, and relish in the oddities.

His eyes drifted over, and he saw the principal Arisaka-san and Suoh the French superintendent and father of Tamaki were both tied to chairs. The rough man grinned in such a manner that Nekozawa instinctively flinched.

"keh. I've heard the Nekozawa heir was odd, didn't know he was this damn odd though. Would've never know it was him if not for the cat puppet." Saitou said, a wicked and mocking smile donning his face. "Tie him up with his hood down and wig off, in the sunlight. I've heard from many that he hates the ligh-"

"Leave Nekozawa-san alone, arigatou gozaimasu!" All heads swerved to look at Haruhi, with distressed brown hair and wide honey eyes resting upon a slight blush. She looked down at the floor, her legs shaking, and her arms rested behind her back.

"Fujioka-san!" Nekozawa shouted, earning himself a sharp reprimanding nudge. His hold was discarded by his captor, and he now sat on the floor. Why was Haruhi here? Did he realize the danger here?

"Lookie who we have here? A girlie boy. Boring, and stupid." Saitou lamented, sighing. He trounced over, and grabbed her by the collar of the shirt. "Trying to be the hero? You know, you have nothing to offer to save your little creeper of a friend."

"Y-yes I do…." She mumbled, trying her best to look to an empty spot as her cheeks flared up. "I-I… I'm… a g-g-girl…"

Saitou stared at her face blankly, taking a few moments to process what she was saying. He could see her being a girl, but in a boy's uniform? That information was a little unsettling, but at the same time it intrigued him. After all, why would a rich kid play cross dresser?

"Ha ha ha, that's bullshit if I ever did here it." But Saitou paused, deciding to let the cross dresser plead his or her case.

"Hmmm, let's see some proof. Take your shirt off. Now." Saitou said, pointing to the uniform top. He grinned maliciously.

"Don't harass my students, please!" The principal cried out, eliciting a slap to the face by one of Saitou's lackies.

Haruhi was quiet, her face flaming red. She paused, and then spoke in hushed tones.

"A-ah… I'll show you in the room over there." Haruhi pointed to the door on the side of the office. It lead to a room filled with file cabinets and a desk, where the principal did most of his work. Saitou glanced to the door, and looked it over.

"What's in there?"

"Just some file cabinets and a mahogany desk." Haruhi said calmly, knowing the room inside out, down to the last detail.

"Fine." He tugged Haruhi by her collar. Nekozawa nervously watched them disappear behind the door. He thought Haruhi was extremely brave for what she was doing, but he also was extremely nervous. The four lackies in this room were grinning, and had forgotten about him, but for how long?

And at the same time, he found the revelation that Haruhi was female shocking, but not really, at the same time.

The time passed slowly. Nekozawa dared not even move a muscle, despite sitting awkwardly with his legs crossed and arms awkwardly placed to support his weight partially. His joints screamed in discomfort as gravity pressed down, harder and harder. Meanwhile, the men working for Saitou began chatting amongst themselves, about random things, actually. It was incredible for him to believe such heartless people could talk so casually.

'_How is Fujioka…-chan?_' Nekozawa swallowed dryly, a sort of dread overcoming him. Scenarios came to him, and he tried to force them away. '_Is Saitou a pedophile? He must be at least thirty. What if he does something… wrong to Haruhi?!_'

He tired to shake the indecent image that was branded into his mind. He heard nothing from that room, which both relieved and frightened him more, in a twisted battle of waves of emotions crashing down upon him.

From the window, Nekozawa saw a red flare with trailing gray smoke shoot up the sky. He gazed in awe as is melted away into the clear blue sky. Suddenly, he felt something ominous…

The door swung open, and gunshots rang out. Bullets shredded apart the walls, and the thunderous noise left Nekozawa stunned. Blood splattered about, across his face, the walls, and pooled on the floor. The four men fell with a thud to the ground, limp and bloody, turned into almost literal swiss cheese by the ammunition.

"Keh. Easy enough."

Nekozawa reluctantly looked up at the door, and his mouth gaped as he saw the last person he would accuse of doing such a thing. Haruhi stood there, eyes narrowed, shirt unbuttoned halfway to reveal her small bra. Her hands were tinged with red, and he noticed a bloody blade discarded somewhere behind her in the room. He squinted, and swore he saw glazed over dark eyes and a limp body in the corner of the dark room, but one shake of his head and a redirecting of eyes told him other wise, at least mentally. She held a gigantic gun, something his family itself manufactured (the Nekozawa family is a notorious gun manufacturer), an M240. It extended about, most likely four or five feet, and yet she held it easily.

The petite cross dresser had a different air about her now. Her eyes seemed stone cold, her features chiseled, and her skinny frame didn't seem as feeble and weak as it had moments ago. Haruhi seemed… more stable. More strong. Almost frightening, with that knowing grin placed upon her lips.

She dropped the ammunition-less gun, which clanked heavily against the carpeted floor, and smiled.

"Suoh-san, Arisaka-san," Haruhi addressed the two, ignoring Nekozawa. "The threat has been neutralized. The signal flare indicated all twelve snipers have been dealt with. I shall proceed to wipe out the rest of the threat- three classrooms being held hostage near an exit that could lead to the escape of the enemies, using less deadly tactics until it is safe for police to proceed and take control of the situation from here. However, it is imperative that I first free you both from the bonds."

She pulled out a small Swiss army knife and sliced the duck tape that taped them both to the chairs, with quick slashes that easily hit the right spot. While the superintendent blinked with confusion, the principal; Arisaka, remained composed.

"So you're the undercover agent that I was briefly informed of. I have to say, you are quite stealthy. You have everything here wrapped around your finger. And you really did get the full scholarship through your wit alone, I wonder how someone could be this efficient in both school work and this sort of line or work." Arisaka said, smiling. "No one would have ever guessed. I have to say, I'm glad someone like you was appointed. You seem to be rather proficient in your work."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, I take great pride in my acting skills. I also have an innate ability to retain information I find important, and also to apply great understanding of concepts." She spoke coldly, accompanying the phrase with an icy sharp smile. "May I perhaps borrow a pair of sunglasses? And, Nekozawa-kun, may I borrow your wig and cape? I intend to be operating here for a while, so it is important that my identity remain overall hidden. I would have had a sufficient disguise, had the attack occurred ten minutes later, as I was en route towards a supply closet in room B243. That is where you will later uncover a black trench coat, bullet proof vest, two twin pistols, ammunition, and a plain mask. However, my predictions were wrong and for that I will have to make do with what I have. The closet is locked, Arisaka-san, and I possess the key, so there should be no concern over it. I will relinquish the key once I find it necessary. But, do you have the sunglasses?"

"Yes. I have a pair in my drawer, I always do." Arisaka walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out the shades and handed them over. Haruhi put them on, and her eyes disappeared in the black. She turned to Nekozawa, who reluctantly first asked her a question.

"Where'd that huge gun come from?"

"I stashed it under the floor boards in the room in case of such an emergency, as in such a situation I would need to make my way directly to the principal's room to ensure his safety first." Haruhi said bluntly without any hesitation or questioning, as if it were so obvious. "and this pistol? I carry it around all the time, concealed."

Nekozawa sighed and his skinny, pale fingers grasped the coarse fibers of the wig. He silently gulped, clamping his eyes shut, and revealed the golden locks below at a slow pace, as if it needed to be peeled off carefully. Nekozawa imagined the light burning him; singing his skin, smoldering away his exposed blond locks, and turning the soft jelly of his eyeballs into a syrupy goo that would trickled down his stinging and blistered skin. He tugged on it randomly, pulling it right off his head. Nervously, his hand shook as he held out the wig, and it hovered there in the air for a minute, black wig tendrils rubbing against his exposed forearm. He pressed his eyelids tighter together.

She had walked away, Nekozawa knew because he heard her footsteps, but then she paused. He heard the distinct sound of curtains gliding across, and the fear slowly subsided because he understood what she had done. Haruhi walked back, and carefully took the wig.

Umehito Nekozawa opened his eyes to the darkened room, and his previously clamped shut eyes had to clear from the blurry haze they were confronted with at first. He looked up to Haruhi, and at that moment realized he was still crouching on the floor, almost sitting on his legs and balanced on his dexterous toes. Embarrassed, he stood up, forgetting to pull his hood up over his exposed head.

He didn't realize it, but around Fujoka Haruhi, he could relax. A little bit, only reasonably, but yes he could. If it had been anyone else, the hood would be up in a second and he would be in the corner within a second, cursing daylight.

"It's a shame you are afraid of the light. You look almost like Tamaki. If memory serves me correctly, you have blue eyes as well, but you wear contacts. Girls would be all over you in a moment." Haruhi said, tucking her brunette hair under the wig. "Although I like your hair a bit more. Than Tamaki's. Very docile, in a good way. I like predictability, it leaves me with no surprises."

She grinned at the last part, as if it were some sort of inside joke.

Haruhi pulled a pistol from the waistband of her pants, and loaded it with rounds from her pocket. From its shape and design, Nekozawa was sure it was a M1911, and wondered briefly why she had so many guns. But he dared not ask another word, for her last comment had left him speechless and blushing madly, and now he realized how easily words could cripple his weak constitution. He examined her disguise, and found she was pretty indistinguishable, save for the uniform.

Haruhi, almost as if reading his mind, stripped herself of the blue blazer, leaving herself with the plain, almost slightly see through collared white shirt. He couldn't see any of the chest area, but that was because he knew for a fact her bra was flesh colore-

'_What am I thinking!?!?!?_' Nekozawa redirected his eyes to the much less favorable but far more reasonable floor, holding his breath as he tried to steady his heartbeat. He looked back up, Haruhi was leaving the room already, so he found himself a favorable corner, plopped down, and silently brooded as Arakawa and Suou-san nervously glanced about.

The moment Haruhi left, the three remaining men broke out in shock towards the such callous murder of the criminal men that held them captive, and of the uncaring brown haired girl who had slaughtered them all in one moment. Her cold eyes alone were enough to freeze them.

* * *

Don't expect many updates on this.  
This is something like two months old, and I can't reread it because I like the concept but the way I wrote I think sucks major balls.

If I get enough inspiring reviews, it might spur myself to go on~~

Also, sorry for protraying Haruhi as so cold. She won't be AS cold, if the story plays out how I'm thinking it should, by the time I wrap this up. As much as I love Moe Haruhi, we need some ACTUAL kickass Haruhi out there. Like, almost SUPER OOC (although you won't notice this early, my haruhi's personality is kind of like the original one's, only she's more cold and calculating- she does retain several personality traits).


End file.
